


Death's Door

by akamine_chan



Series: Death's Door [1]
Category: due South
Genre: Community: ds_snippets, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-03-15
Updated: 2009-03-15
Packaged: 2017-10-15 16:04:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/162512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akamine_chan/pseuds/akamine_chan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was cold.</p><p>It was fucking cold but he could see a cabin ahead, warmth and light and welcome. Dief ran toward the cabin and then back to him, tail wagging and yipping, running puppy-like through the snow in his happiness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Death's Door

**Author's Note:**

  * For [keerawa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/keerawa/gifts).



> Written for the LJ community ds_snippets
> 
> Prequel to an anonymous birthday snippet given to Keerawa. Unbeta'd.

It was cold.

It was fucking cold but he could see a cabin ahead, warmth and light and welcome. Dief ran toward the cabin and then back to him, tail wagging and yipping, running puppy-like through the snow in his happiness.

They'd been traveling for a while now. Ray wasn't exactly sure where they were or how they got there; when he tried to think about it his brain presented him with flashing, half-formed images that made him deeply uneasy. So he shied away from thinking too hard about _why_ he and Dief were lost in the Canadian wilderness, and concentrated on getting them somewhere safe.

 _Where was Fraser?_

He'd woken up in a snowbank, a painful gash on his forehead. Dief's fur had been spattered by blood which had dried crusty and rust-brown. He'd checked the mutt out, but found nothing.

It was cold, but the cabin was deserted, a fire burned merrily in the fireplace. Dief immediately headed to another door in the back and pawed at it, whining and looking at Ray over his shoulder. There was something anxious in the way Dief was worrying at the door, and it made Ray's stomach twist into knots.

“Easy, furface,” Ray soothed. He touched the door and it swung open on silent hinges, revealing a small office, one that looked eerily similar to Fraser's office at the Consulate.

Slumped at the neat little desk was a man—Fraser, dressed in his uniform, grief telegraphed in every bent line of his body.

“Fraser?”

Fraser stood abruptly, his face wet with tears, as Dief ran into the office, barking. “Ray? What are you doing in my closet?”

And suddenly, Ray remembered. The gun, being shot, _his killer_. And Dief's. Dying. The blood. “Oh, fuck. I'm dead.”

-fin- 


End file.
